More than Friends - Monica Murphy (13 page)

Tuesday night at Yo Town is pretty boring. The shop is located in a busy shopping center, but once it hits about eight o’clock, business dies. The last hour would’ve dragged if I hadn’t prepped for closing during that time. I’m confident closing will be a breeze, but I can’t help but feel a little nervous after Tuttle showed so much concern about my being alone.

If he never would’ve acted like that, I’d be fine. He put too many dark thoughts in my head.

He’s pretty good at that.

My phone buzzes in the back pocket of my jeans and I pull it out to find a text from Blake.

You doing okay? Have any questions?

I text him back.

I’m fine. Last hour has been dead but that gave me time to clean up a lot.

That’s what I usually do too. Call me if you need anything.

Will do! :)

I put my phone away and start to cover the toppings that can stay out overnight. I’ll put the ones that need to be refrigerated in the back after I lock the front door. I check the clock. 8:47. Thirteen minutes ’til closing time.

I’ve got my back toward the door when I hear the buzzer indicating someone entering the building. I whirl around, a strangled sound leaving me when I see who’s standing there.

Tuttle. Of course.

“Why are you here?” I ask once I find my voice.

“Couldn’t stop thinking about you alone. Thought I’d come be with you. Make sure you’re okay.” He approaches the counter, walking with that unmistakable Tuttle swagger. He looks windblown—his hair is ruffled and his cheeks are red. A storm is coming in, nothing serious, but enough to drop the temps and kick up a gusty wind. He’s wearing a school hoodie and dark gray sweatpants. I have never in my life thought sweatpants were sexy before.

At this very moment, they are the sexiest things I’ve ever seen.

“Oh.” I stand up a little bit straighter. “I can handle it.”

“I know you can. I just don’t like thinking about you here. All by yourself. Anyone can see that you’re alone.” He waves at the giant windows that line the front of the store, then turns to meet my gaze. “The parking lot isn’t safe either. Who knows who’s out there?”

I fight the shiver that wants to take over me at his words. Talk about putting fear in me. “I’m parked pretty close.”

“Not close enough,” he retorts.

“Tuttle…” My voice drifts and the glare he sends me cuts like a knife.

“Don’t call me that,” he snaps.

I take a step back at the anger in his voice. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

He comes around the counter until he’s standing right in front of me. Blocking everything out so all I can see is him. “I told you before—call me by my first name.”

“Okay.” I nod, trying to ignore my racing heart at his nearness. He’s moody tonight. A little restless. I wonder why? “Jordan.”

The tension eases out of him and he relaxes. “You’ve got the braids in again.” He reaches out and touches one, tugs on the end like he’s six and a pain in my butt. “You look cute.”

He always tells me I look cute. I want him to think I’m beautiful. Gorgeous. Stunning. All those pretty words boys say to girls. Boyfriends say to girlfriends.

Oh my God, now I’m the one whose acting like she’s six.

“Thanks.” I glance around, trying to look anywhere but at him. Why, I don’t know. It’s like all the awkwardness of this entire situation has just hit me full force and I feel silly. Lacking. Which is dumb. He’s never done or said anything to make me feel less than in comparison to him.

But he doesn’t have to. He’s just…him. And I’m only me.

“Amanda.” I look him in the eyes when he says my name. “Do you need my help or anything?”

“Can you sit out here while I do some stuff in the back?”

“Yeah.” He reaches out and brushes stray strands of hair away from my forehead, his fingers skimming my skin, making my blood hum. “Can I buy some yogurt first?”

I burst out laughing. “Absolutely.”

Once I ring him up, I start putting away the toppings in the refrigerator, then I make sure the bathroom is clean. I wipe down the yogurt machines, run a quick broom over the floor since I already mopped, then turn off the “open” light and lock the door.

“It’s only 8:59,” Tuttle reminds me. He’s sitting at one of the tiny tables, eating his frozen yogurt like he has all the time in the world as he checks his phone. I’m instantly curious. Who texts him? Snapchats him? He has an Instagram profile but barely uses it, though he has tons of followers, including myself.

“I’m a minute early. So what?” I smile at him and he doesn’t return it, which makes me a little sad.

“You talk to your boss?”

I frown. “What do you mean?”

“About Fridays.”

“Oh!” I brighten. How could I forget? I was so worried about closing I guess I shoved it out of my mind. “I did talk to her. She said that was fine, mentioned that she could cover this Friday’s shift if I was needed that badly, which I assured her I was. I made it sound like I tried to line up the water girl job before I started at Yo Town and she was totally cool with it.”

“So you’re our new water girl.”

I nod, pleased with the happy expression on his face. “Thank you for arranging this for me.”

“I’m glad.” He offers up a smile. “Really glad you’ll be at all the games, Mandy.”

“Me too,” I murmur.

“You work on Juliet’s diary entry yet?”

I frown at his change of subject. “Um, not yet.”

He sends me a look, one I can’t decipher. “Better get to it.”

“I’ll work on it tonight.”

“You’ll text it to me?”

“Sure.” I don’t know if I want to do that. Talk about taking a chance. What if he shares the entry with his friends? That would be humiliating. He’ll probably make it sound like I wrote that to him, not Juliet to Romeo.

Yeah. I am so not sending him the entry via text. Forget that.

I slip behind the counter and work on closing out the cash register. Once I’m done, I go to the back and stash the money in the safe, then lock it and the office as well. Turning off all the lights, I come out into the store to find Jordan leaning against the counter and typing on his phone, a scowl on his face as he stares at the screen.

“All done,” I tell him weakly. Why does he look so mad? What’s going on? Who’s he talking to? I kinda lift up on tiptoe to see his phone screen and I can tell he’s texting.

But with who?

“Ready to go?” He clicks his phone screen off and shoves it in the front pocket of his sweats, waiting for me.

“Yeah. Let’s go out the front door.” He heads toward it and I shut off the rest of the lights, then follow him, walking through the door he holds open for me. I pull the door shut and lock it with the set of keys Sonja left with me earlier this afternoon, then shove them into my front pocket. “I did it.”

“Yeah, you did.” He glances around before he takes my arm and leads me out into the parking lot and toward my car. I hurry to keep up with him, shivering when the cold wind hits me. I’m only in my Yo Town T-shirt and jeans. I didn’t bring a sweater because I came straight from school and earlier in the day it had been warm.

“Your teeth are chattering,” he says when we reach my car. “Here.” I watch in mute fascination when he tugs his hoodie off, his T-shirt catching on it for a brief moment and riding up, revealing his perfect, flat stomach.

Oh God. I feel faint. I’ve touched that stomach before. Not enough times, though. I’d give anything to touch him again. Totally dumb, but true.

Next thing I know, he’s tugging the hoodie over my head and I shove my arms into the sleeves, smiling when the hoodie hits me at about mid thigh. It’s warm from his body heat and smells like soap and spice and Jordan Tuttle. Which means it smells freaking amazing.

“That better?” He tucks the sweatshirt around my neck, his fingers brushing against my sensitive skin, and a soft gasp escapes me, making him frown. “Mandy? You all right?”

I finally do it. I give in. I throw myself at him, wrapping my arms around his waist, soaking up his solid warmth, the shape of him, the thin fabric of his T-shirt, the thump, thump, thump of his heartbeat against my ear. Oh God, I could hold onto him forever like this. And when he puts his arms around me, pulling me even closer, I snuggle in and close my eyes.

“Thank you,” I whisper, my throat scratchy. Raw. “For everything.” I need him to know how much I appreciate what he’s doing for me. How he’s watching out for me. Protecting me.

It’s sweet. Thoughtful.

“You’re welcome.” He presses his lips to my hair and I clutch him tighter. I want more. More of Jordan’s lips on my skin, on my lips. But I don’t get it. And I don’t ask for it. I’m too scared.

Apparently so is he, because eventually he lets go of me and I let go of him with a bashful smile. “I’ll see you at school tomorrow?”

“Yeah. I’ll wait until the car starts, okay?”

“Okay.” I unlock my car and climb in, then start the engine, sending him a thumbs-up. He nods and then goes to his car, which is parked near mine, and when I pull out of the parking lot a few minutes later, he follows me.

All the way home.

W
hen there are away games, the school doesn’t hold rallies. If that was the case, we’d be having rallies every Friday and nothing would ever get done. Not that anything much happens on a Friday at our high school. Though drama always seems to break out on a Friday.

Or a Monday, or a Tuesday. Pretty much any day that ends in “y.”

I’ve been on edge all day, worrying about how I’m supposed to get to the game tonight. I don’t want to drive, not in my crap car, considering we’re playing a town over forty miles away. Plus, I don’t want to spend the money on gas. I’m trying to save every dime I’m making right now to put away toward college.

So when I spot Coach Halsey hovering by the quad near the end of lunch, I approach him with all the courage I can muster.

Why am I such a coward sometimes? God, I hate it. I need to get a backbone, damn it.

“Hey Coach.”

He smiles when he sees it’s me. “Amanda Winters. Very excited about having you as our new water girl.” We’ve talked about it briefly, but he’s been busy and so I’m a little freaked I might not be the best water girl in the world. But if he has faith in me, I need to have faith in myself.

“Thanks again for the chance. I really do appreciate it.” I pause. Lick my lips. Fight the nerves. “Um, what time do I have to be at the game tonight?”

“Bus leaves at four, JV game starts at five.”

I frown. “Wait a minute. You want me to ride the team bus?”

His frown matches mine. “You
are
on the team now, correct?”

“Um, I guess so…”

“The team rides together for away games on the bus. The cheerleaders go too.” Great. Lauren Mancini will be there. Can’t wait. “The bus leaves promptly at four.”

“Okay. Cool.”

“Don’t be late. You don’t want the bus to leave you behind.” He smiles and starts to walk away. “See you tonight, Miss Winters,” he calls over his shoulder.

“Why is he seeing
you
tonight?”

I turn at the snide tone, surprised to find Lauren Mancini standing in front of me, looking perfect in her cheer uniform. The sleeveless top shows off her perfect toned and tanned arms, and it fits her tight across the chest so her boobs look amazing. The skirt is short, revealing her long, thin legs. She has curves, unlike me, and a beautiful face, beautiful hair…beautiful everything.

She knows it too.

“Um, I’m the new water girl for the JV and varsity football teams,” I tell her.

Lauren sneers, but she still manages to look pretty. “Really? Are you so desperate to get Tuttle’s attention you’ll do anything, even hand him over a water bottle during the game?”

Ouch. “I’m not trying to get Tuttle’s attention.”
I’ve already got it.

“Oh, really? Could’ve fooled me.” She crosses her arms in front of her chest, plumping up her stupid perfect boobs, and I try not to glance down at my own imperfect, very flat chest.